God Falling
by The Sketchywallflowr
Summary: ...the ship slowly floated down to the ground, fire blazing out behind it... it looked like God falling to his knees.
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: Bad for me, I don't own them. Good for Joss, he does.

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Serenity had been destroyed. Now as the tears pour down your face just trying to absorb that, I shall tell you how it came to be.

They were in the oldest galaxy ever known to man- the Milky Way. It had been only a decently dangerous delivery of stolen gas and oil drums from some Alliance headquarters far, far away. Their destination was a tiny moon called Pluto. Kaylee begged to go to Earth that Was, and Mal had still been thinking about it.

As they entered the atmosphere, the ship took several jerks Mal wasn't pleased with. "Kaylee, check what in the hell's going on."

She lovingly examined each part of her engine, watching it spin with the adoration she usually did. But something was wrong. There was a clunking, spitting noise she wasn't used to hearing. She leaned in closer to see where it was coming from, hoping it was something that'd last them until they landed. If not, it'd be another bumpy crash course. Her eyes caught a glisten deep in the workings of the complex engine. Something was leaking into the parts. No, not something. Gas was leaking into the parts. Precious, explosive fuel. "Uh oh," Kaylee murmured, getting her fingers into but hopefully not cut off by the machine. It was coming from a small pump, one she'd never had trouble with before. "That ain't good of you," she told it. The ship bumped again, and a tiny screw fell off and down into the engine.

One tiny screw. That's all it took.

The engine, far overheated from working too damn hard, exploded instantly with Kaylee's fingers still delicately tangled inside. The underbelly of the ship became engulfed in flames. The underbelly meaning the engine room, infirmary and guest (River and Simon's) quarters. The heat from breaking atmosphere did not help. Again the ship jerked, more desperately this time. River lost complete control of the wheel. She grabbed it tightly but it would not budge no matter how hard she forced it.

"We're going down," Mal said softly, but those were the last words said in the air. The impact, the fire, the sheer chaos of it all ignited the dangerous cargo. Drums of explosives boomed through the air, sending heat and fire and pieces of ship high into the sky. Serenity hit the icy tundra. Mal was thrown through the glass (despite being strapped in) and landed some fifty feet from his ship. He blacked out for over an hour.

From the point of view of a small child watching the crash from a safe three miles away, the ship slowly floated down to the ground, fire blazing out behind it. The child later told his mother it looked like God falling to his knees.

When Mal came to, Serenity was still ablaze. It had settled some, not that he'd know, but what he saw was tragic enough. There was nothing left of his ship. There were thousands of pieces of a ship that may have been, but Serenity was no more.

Mal had started digging through the wreckage with a limp (his leg was snapped for sure). He'd been looking for crew, but crew found him instead. Jayne came from behind a giant piece of metal that had been the hallway floor.

"Jayne," Mal said gratefully. Someone was alive. "You find anyone?"

The merc's hair was mostly singed off, he had a scar brewing on his forehead and was babying his shoulder. But thank God, he was alive. "Zoe," he said miserably, and Mal knew at once that it wasn't a finding so much as it was a body discovery. "She was still strapped in," Jayne told him softly.

Mal cursed inwardly. He and Zoe had survived just about everything together. But not this time, it seemed. Not this time. "Anyone else?"

"Just you." Jayne looked at him expectantly. He didn't know what he should do now.

Mal patted the man's good shoulder. "Help me lift things," he told him, and Jayne willingly obliged. They grabbed a chunk of metal and heaved it up, turning up snow and rock. Nothing else. "Where were you?" Mal asked as they moved on to the next pile of rubble. Anything to drown the terrible silence that hung between them.

"Been clawin' my way out from under half the ship," he said dully. "Dislocated m'shoulder bangin against the door to my room." He kicked over an oil drum. There was nothing but snow underneath. He looked up and around them. Flaming pieces of the ship littered the snow for at least a mile out. They could turn over chunks for three days and still not cover everything. "You don't think… Kaylee, I mean. She was… she…" God, he couldn't even choke out what he wanted to say.

"She was in the engine room," Mal finished for him. "I don't think so." He sat down on a thick iron bar that once held up the doorframe to the airlock. His leg was killing him and would probably get gangrene fairly soon in this weather. The wind had picked up considerably. It was so damn dark out here in the nothingness, billions of light years from the central sun. The only light seemed to be from the cruel fires that ate at his ship. He was angry, scared and freezing. None of them had been prepared for the cold. He himself was only wearing a thin long sleeved shirt and canvas pants. His boots weren't meant to keep out the chill. Even if everyone had been fine, they all would probably die from the cold.

Jayne had wandered off alone. Not far, he knew better than to get lost in the tundra, but far enough to cry and not be heard through the wind. Kaylee gone, Zoe gone. Who else? The doctor? His crazy sister? It didn't make no sense why he was crying so hard over them all because he hadn't truly liked any of them. Least that's what he told himself. His tears just about froze on his face as they came. "_Chi shi!" _he screamed into the wind, kicking over one of the large tires to the mule. His scream caught in his throat when he saw what lay underneath. The tears stopped instantly. He stepped back a few yards until he spotted Mal where'd he'd left him over the ridge. "Mal!" he yelled as loud as he could.

For the captain, it was barely a low shout. He looked up, spotted Jayne and got to his feet. "What is it?"

"I found the doc."

Moving as fast as a cold and broken leg allowed, he hobbled toward Jayne. "Well?" Jayne shook his head, and Mal stopped. His face completely fell. "You sure?" he called hesitantly.

"He's only half here," Jayne answered. "Other half's couple feet that way." His hand indicated somewhere in the midst of rubble where Mal couldn't see. For some reason, Jayne couldn't look away from Simon. The man's eyes were wide and pleading, his hand reached up as though begging for help. For one terrifying moment Jayne thought he saw him move, but then everything was still. "Hell," he breathed. "I'm sorry, kid."

"Jayne!" Mal called. The merc looked up expectantly, dashing through the snow easy as a reindeer.

"Find someone?" he asked hopefully.

Mal shook his head, his eyes closed. "Gimme a hand, ok?"

It was then that Jayne noticed the captain's leg. It was bloodied and stiff looking. He slung Mal's arm over his good shoulder and carried him along for a while. "Shit, Mal," he grunted with effort. "You coulda said something."

"Should have," he agreed.

"How bad is it?"

"I didn't look."

Jayne stopped walking. "Well hell, why don't we-"

"No, just, keep moving, okay? I want to find River before we…"

Jayne pulled on, understanding. 'Find River before we give up' was what Mal had been about to say. Either that or 'die'. They made slow progress through a mile and a half of snow, their path lit by dying fires from burning rubble. At one point Mal saw something he thought was a piece of his mechanic, but he didn't want to stop and investigate. River seemed to be nowhere. After two hours they stopped at a cave-like dwelling which had once been the cargo area. It was turned over and sticking into the snow. Jayne placed Mal down onto a hunk of the steps and gathered some of the burning wreckage for their camp. It would be impossible for them to go any further for a while.

Wincing considerably, Mal decided to check the damage on his leg. Thankfully it wasn't a compound fracture, though he could see the bit of bone poking just below his skin. Jayne dumped an armful of broken crates onto their pitiful fire and sat heavily beside the captain.

"How you holding up?" Mal asked.

"Been shitloads better, won't lie to you." His stomach gurgled unhappily. "Hungry, freezing, tired." He touched his shoulder tenderly. "Scared," he admitted as an afterthought. "We, uh… we ain't gonna make it, are we?"

"Don't think so," Mal told him honestly. "Don't have any idea which way it is to civilization. Don't know how far off we are from where we were headed. Don't know if it'd matter when we got there." He hated giving in to the idea of defeat, but he hated deluding himself more.

Something howled far off. It sent a new chill down Mal's spine. Jayne's ears perked up like a bloodhound's. "You hear that?" he asked Mal.

"Yeah. You think… wolves?"

"No, ain't wolves." He listened through the wind, straining to hear it again. He was obliged a minute later when it came again, soft but distinct. It seemed the wind was delivering the message for them because it wouldn't make it on its own.

"What is that?" Mal asked, not liking the all too alert look on Jayne's face.

Jayne ignored him, still tuned in to the sound. It came again, louder this time. His eyes suddenly widened. "River," he muttered, then took off at a full run.

Mal made a grab at him but missed. "Jayne!" he yelled. But his hired man's silhouette faded into the blackness, only illuminated every once in a while by a fire as he passed it. He was left alone. The fire was warm enough to keep him from freezing, but not enough to shake off the internal cold. That wasn't going to go away for a long time. He looked around what was left of his cargo. There was floor sinking down on his head, frozen drips of molten metal stopped before it could make a perfect droplet and fall. It really looked like a cave in here. "Jayne!" he yelled again, not expecting an answer and not getting one. He was going to call again when something caught his eye. There was a crate on the far side of the den, turned over and singed. Gathering strength, Mal crawled over to it and pushed it upright. This was quite a task with two good legs on a full night's rest, so in his current condition Mal took at least fifteen minutes. Once it was unstuck from the snow, he tore open one of the panels to reveal exactly what he'd been hoping for- stacks of canned foods. Some of them had melted together, but the moral of the story was they had food. He started crying with relief, rested a few minutes then grabbed four cans and crawled his way back to where the fire was. He rested again, then recuperated and pondered how he was going to go about heating this stuff up. He had fire, which was step one. Step two was getting the food out of the cans, which he didn't have any way of doing. After thinking it over a good six minutes his stomach gave an acidic, grumbling protest and he decided to hell with it and started banging the cans against the steel stairs. Eventually they dented enough and cracked, so if he pushed and bent them enough he could pull off a piece and make a hole where he could pour the innards out. His fingers got cut quite a few times but there were no complaints on his part. To cook them he stuck the cans right into the fire and when they started melting he'd kick it out onto the snow. It was an in depth process that took close to forever.

Jayne came back forty minutes later, a small heap of a girl thrown over his shoulder. She was moaning and thrashing listlessly. Jayne leaned her against the stairs and proceeded to collapse. Mal stared at the girl as though he were seeing a ghost. "River," he muttered. She looked at him with wide, unknowing eyes. Her whole face was glazed.

"She's got a fever," Jayne told Mal, his face indifferently in the snow. "But the rest of her's freezing. Nasty burn on her left leg, cut on her stomach that's prob'ly infected. Keeps talking nonsense. More than usual, you know." His voice was monotonous and dull. He was clearly exhausted. "She was under what's left of the mule. Pinned her down, took me forever to get her out.""

"I love you, Jayne," River said airily.

Jayne lifted his head a little. "See what I mean?"

Mal touched her face timidly, withdrawing his hand immediately. She was hot, very hot. He probably could have cooked dinner on her forehead. She looked back at him, not comprehending what she saw. Mal looked her over sadly. She was cut up and bruised, and he could see blood on her thin blue dress where she had been cut. There were no sleeves on her dress, no nothing to it. She must be freezing. He was a little surprised she hadn't frozen to death already.

"No, Simon!" she screamed suddenly. "No! Don't you understand, he can't forgive himself for that?" She took a swing at the imaginary Simon in front of her, seemingly missed, and fell over onto Mal's lap. He rubbed her back to try and generate some heat in her.

"You're okay," he murmured to her. "You're all right."

"I love you, Mal," she told him.

"Thanks, River."

"Will we bury Simon?"

He choked back a small sob. It killed him she already knew. "I don't know."

"Okay." She closed her eyes and curled up into him. "I trust you."

"Jayne," Mal said desperately, holding down his tears. "Get out of the snow." Jayne got up, brushing powder off his clothes. "I cooked," Mal told him, pointing to the cans with his toe.

"Figures," Jayne said, grabbing a still warm can of what seemed to be stew. "We lose half the crew but the food's fine." He drank it down, grimaced, and had more. At least it was warm. "I'm tired," he said plainly.

"Don't know if going to sleep's a good idea right now. Might not wake up."

River kicked the air fiercely. "No, no, no," she moaned. "No more needles, no more drugs. No more training. River wants to be herself again." Then she fell limp again. "Simon," she cried out pitifully. "Simon? Simon?"

"He ain't here," Jayne said roughly. "Won't be, either."

River was quiet for a moment. "Jayne?" she whimpered.

"Yeah?"

"Don't let me go."

Mal looked up at Jayne, all resolve lost. He started to cry. It wasn't racking or desperately hard, just soft and quiet. He stroked River's hair, trying not to flinch at the heat radiating from her head.

Sighing from weariness, Jayne pulled on River until she sat up, maneuvering her onto his lap. She curled readily against him, nuzzling her face into his neck. He shuffled over until he was close beside Mal, who slung an arm around Jayne's waist. Mal leaned his head against River's back and she sighed.

"Cold," River said meekly, curling her toes under Jayne's leg.

"Okay, beibei," he said softly, hugging her tighter. "I'm here."

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Up in heaven, Wash was crying silently as he watched the three remaining crew members below him. Zoe stood at his side, holding his hand and leaning on his shoulder. Shepherd Book stood on Wash's other side. Simon was holding Kaylee in his arms, looking down on his baby sister.

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Author's note: I was thinking of writing more to this, but I'm not sure it needs it. Does this need more chapters, or is it good as is? Feedback would be greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: If you are the type of person who believed the story was powerful enough as was, then by al means, turn back now and neglect that you saw continuing chapters. It is best to remember something in its best light. If you are like me, however, and watch the sequel even when you think (or know) it can't possibly do the original justice but you simply love the characters so, and you need to know what happened… then read on._

_Also, it was brought to my attention that Pluto is a wasteland with unbreatheable gasses. We have colonized it, just go with it._

disclaimer: All Firefly characters are property of Joss Whedon.

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It was only by pure miracle that River Tam made it through the night. The morning sun (if you could even call it that) poked its head over the horizon and glared against the snow. Mal had made Jayne stay awake all night but let River sleep for few hour intervals. She was still quick with fever and her delusions had gotten worse. At one point she'd been married to Zoe and was demanding her ring back. Jayne held her all night, reluctantly, but Mal had no available lap space for her to go on and she couldn't be in the snow. They were all exhausted, hungry and freezing. If it hadn't been for the small fire and each other's body heat, none of them would have survived at all.

"I gotta sleep," Jayne pleaded. "Can't even see straight no more. Shoulder's killin me. This girl's hot and heavy."

"Jayne!" River gasped. "Let go!" She slapped him, hard, then clawed at his face. He smacked her back and she was quiet again. She'd been swinging at him all damn night and he'd just about had enough. If it weren't for the fact she was very close to death he would've shoved her into the snow and let her freeze.

"Mal?" he said softly, noticing the captain wasn't paying him any mind. Mal's head snapped up, his eyes bloodshot.

"Ung?"

"The hell are we gonna do?"

Mal forced his eyes to stay open, but yawned loudly. "What else can we do? We gotta start moving."

"I can't…" Jayne whimpered. "I'm exhausted. I can't carry her, and she sure as shit can't walk. Can't handle both of you at once."

"You got a better idea, Jayne? Cuz I'd sure love to hear it."

In fact, he did not have any better ideas. River had no shoes, no decent clothes, and no comprehension of how sick she was. Mal couldn't walk on his own, and Jayne only had the one arm to carry one of them with. They were all pretty much screwed.

"Think I got trench foot," Mal said unhappily, poking at his leg. Pus oozed from his trousers.

"Shiny," Jayne moaned. "I don't want to die out here. I'd rather have gone down in flames with the rest of 'em." He shifted River on his lap. One of his legs had gone to sleep pretty bad. Still, he couldn't put her down. She was sweating and shivering at the same time. "She ain't gonna make it," Jayne decided. "Let's just leave her."

"Are you outta your damn mind?" Mal snapped. "We ain't just gonna leave her here!"

"Why the hell not! Whether she dies alone or dies with us, she's a goner, Mal! We all are!"

"She ain't staying behind and that's all I'm gonna say on that!"

"You ain't making the orders no more, Mal. In case you hadn't noticed, you ain't got a ship to be captain of. You ain't got no crew."

"I got you, don't I?"

"Not for long," Jayne mumbled.

"Look," Mal said bluntly, "I can't do this without you. I need your help, and I ain't leaving her here. If it were you, I wouldn't leave you either. That's just the way I roll."

"Well it ain't the way I roll."

"Well learn a new way. Soon as we get outta here, I swear you can abandon us and I won't say a damn word about it. You try and leave us here so help me, Jayne, I will hunt you down."

Jayne mulled it over a bit. The likelihood of Mal being able to survive without him was slim, so he could in all fairness run for it. But there was a part of him that wouldn't let him leave. He'd watched his ship go down, seen three people he called friend dead. Abandoning Mal and River would be too inhumane. So with a sigh and a grunt, he got to his feet (shakily, since one leg was asleep something awful) and placed River gently on the steps. Mal looked up at him, glaring.

"You need a cast," Jayne said blankly. "I'll go find some wood, or something. You just watch over her. She dies while I'm gone, I'm gonna be super pissed." He started to go, then turned back. "Soon as we're out of here, Mal. I'm gone."

"Fine," Mal agreed. "First we gotta get out."

Jayne tromped off through the snow, weary and close to tears. Mal slid up beside River, who made a feeble attempt at an attack.

"Hate you," she murmured. "Hands of blue, take River's soul. River's soul is on ice, so cold. So cold." She shivered as though to prove her point.

Jayne came back with a plank and some copper wires. "Ain't exactly Dr. Tam's medical facilities, but we make do." Working as gently and efficiently as he could, Jayne wrapped the makeshift cast around Mal's leg. Mal was close to screaming the whole time. The copper cut into his skin and was probably making things worse, but at least the bone would be set straighter. "Found something little lady Tam might be interested in," Jayne added once Mal's leg had been set. He pointed over his shoulder. "Over there's a stockpile of fabric stuff, most likely clothes or whatnot. Figure we can bunch her up in something."

"Let's get moving," Mal decided, getting up onto his leg. Hurt like hell for sure, but dying out here seemed less appealing than walking on a broken leg. He and Jayne raided the clothing pile (Kaylee's things, from the looks of it. There were sad remains of the cupcake dress that just about broke Jayne's heart). Under the pile was the top half of a clothes trunk, which was quickly and cleverly transformed into a sled in which to pull River in. They dressed themselves in a few more layers (some of it fit better than other things) then piled River under a heap of clothes. She curled up and went to sleep, her face sweaty and red.

"You take a look at the cut on her stomach at all?" Mal asked as they each grabbed an end of the torn cloth ties to the trunk and started to pull.

"Tried to," Jayne told him, "but she weren't wearing nothing underneath her dress, so I didn't."

Mal rolled his eyes. "You seen her naked before, Jayne. This might kill her if it gets outta hand."

"Mmm, you're right," Jayne agreed. "And if it does get outta hand, what do you suppose we should do about it?"

Mal frowned at Jayne's smartass yet oh so accurate observation. If River's cut got terribly infected they couldn't do much about it, nor could they do anything to prevent the infection to begin with.

Pulling her through the snow was hard, exhausting and slow. Seemed like they only moved a few feet every half hour. They were making better progress than they could have imagined, but in the snow everything looks very much the same. All that changed was which part of Serenity they passed.

"Jayne!" River yelled. "Jayne!"

"What?" he snapped.

"I can't have your baby. I'm sorry. I can't conceive. They killed her innards. They killed her womanness."

"Ain't that too bad for me," he grunted, glowering to himself. She sure had been having a lot of delusions about him and he didn't care for it.

At quarter after three, standard Pluto time, Mal collapsed. One second he was pulling, the next he fell over into the snow, soundless. Jayne dropped his end of the pulling rope and stared at his former captain, dumbfounded. "Mal?" he said cautiously. There was no reply. "Shit!" he yelled, getting to his knees. "Mal, wake up!" The man was still breathing, which was a plus, but he was not awake, which wasn't. "Hell, Mal, don't do this to me." He tried slapping him a bit, but it didn't help. The stress had been too much and Mal's body had just shut down. "The hell am I gonna do now?" Jayne yelled angrily. Mal sure had been right, they weren't any good without him. "River," he barked, "move over." She didn't budge, because she didn't comprehend he was talking to her. "I said move it, moon brain!" He grabbed her waist and shoved her over, clearing a small space for Mal in the trunk lid. Once both captain and pilot had been stuffed into the small space together, Jayne grabbed the pulling ropes and gave them a mighty heave. Using only one arm, they went nowhere. "Come! On!" he yelled, tugging fiercely. The sled budged once, then again, then slowly started moving smoothly. They were gaining momentum, which would be real helpful. As a matter of fact, they were coming up to a ravine. Pulling as hard as exhaustion and handicap would allow, Jayne ran at top speed toward the edge. As they neared, though, he found it was quite a bit steeper than he'd first imagined. Too late now. They were moving faster and faster. Right before the edge Jayne jumped into the trunk, landing right on River although she couldn't bother to care. They flew down the valley's edge, moving fast and carelessly. There was no way to steer so Jayne only hoped for the best. For at least fifteen minutes they went down, down, down into the valley. They had long since passed the last bits of the former ship. All that lay before them was snow. And something else, though it was blurry from on the sled. Something lie in wait at the bottom of the hill. Jayne squinted to see, but the snow flew in his eyes and blocked his vision. Well, they'd find out what it was sooner or later. The craft came to a slow, eventual stop. Jayne got a good look at what had been waiting for them down the hill.

People.

People with weapons, people with dark eyes looking angrily at Jayne, Mal and River. The sled slid to a halt fifty feet away from the gathering of people. Jayne stayed where he was and waited as they walked over to him. It seemed ironically unfair that this was how they should die. A group of spear carrying men surrounded Jayne and his crew. They looked at him then one another. For once, Jayne kept silent.

A large man stepped forth. He wore a thick parka lined with fur and woolen pants. His boots made deep impressions in the snow. "You need help?" he asked Jayne in a deep, soothing voice.

That was when Jayne, finally, passed out.

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Immediately upon awakening, Mal decided he was dead. The last thing he remembered was being cold and exhausted. Everything had gone hazy, then woozy, then black. But now it was warm, it was soft and comforting. There was no way in hell this was reality.

When he opened his eyes he found himself in something that must have been a hospital. There were young women everywhere dressed all in white and speaking in hushed tones. Jayne was in the bed at his feet, still knocked out. Where was River?

"Hey," he called, which barely rose above a mutter. One of the women knelt beside his cot.

"Yes?" she whispered sweetly.

"Where… the girl?"

"She is gone," she told him simply.

Mal's eyes widened, disbelieving. This wasn't right. "Gone?" he repeated.

"To the Elder. He has stronger medicine, he can help her. We shall pray."

Mal sighed with great relief. "Sure," he agreed. That had been the scariest four seconds of his life. Despite himself, he'd grown quite attached to that little crazy.

"You are the delivery ship?" the woman asked him. He nodded. "We saw your ship fall. My son told me it looked like God falling to his knees. We did not think anyone had survived. I am so sorry."

"Half of 'em didn't," he told her, his emotions threatening to take over. She took his hand in hers, and it was surprisingly warm.

"Shit, Mal!" Jayne suddenly screamed, sitting up. He looked around the room, obviously confused. "Mal?"

"Here," Mal called, glad he was awake.

Jayne turned around to look at him. He had no shirt on, and Mal could see the dark purple bruising of his overworked shoulder. It was in a sling at least. "You okay?" he asked first, then immediately followed with "Where the hell are we?"

"You tell me," Mal said, trying to prop himself up. "Pretty damn sure I blacked out sometime."

"You did," Jayne agreed. "Pulled you down this hill, there were people waiting for me. Can't think of much else after that. Thanks for making me pull both your sorry asses, by the way." He took a quick look around the room. "Oh, hell, where's crazy girl?"

"She is gone," the nurse said simply.

"Hell!"

"Wish you wouldn't say it like that," Mal said to the girl calmly. "She ain't _gone_ gone, she's somewhere else getting fixed."

"Oh, good." Jayne took a breath to calm himself, then realized Mal was still watching him. With renewed interest, to boot. "Be a waste of my time pulling you both if she weren't even gonna make it!" he snapped.

"Thank you, Jayne," Mal said sincerely. "For doing that."

"Yeah, well…" he said awkwardly, "I'm gone, don't forget."

"I didn't."

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Four months passed. They were longer than they felt, and all of them were cold. River was mostly recovered by the end of them, which made Mal ridiculously happy. He felt a little foolish at how pleased he was about it, but there it was. She'd had double pneumonia, an infected cut, second degree burns (which had also infected) and an eight percent chance at recovery. But she had recovered, amazingly quickly and fully. Now all that was left of her sickness was pink scar tissue running down her left thigh, a slight chest cold and a light scar on her stomach.

Jayne was up and about the day after they'd been taken in, so he'd spent a lot of time doing manual labor to keep himself from going insane. After three weeks he decided he'd had enough of this place. He was well enough to go, so the nomadic people had arranged him transport to the city where Serenity had originally been headed. He and Mal had shared a brief goodbye, which went as follows:

"See ya."

Mal waved. "Bye."

The interaction between River and Jayne had been only slightly more heartfelt.

"Later, crazy girl."

"Jayne should not go. He belongs here."

"Well he is goin. Bye."

And that had been that. Mal and River were moved into the same tent where they spent much of their time talking about the crew they'd lost, Jayne included. River missed her brother terribly, screaming and hitting things when she thought about him. It was becoming clear to Mal that, with Simon gone, he was now this girl's caretaker. He'd never had a sister before, especially not a crazy one and it scared him to death. Most of the time he managed to restrain her enough for them to sedate her. Luckily for Mal, River and Jayne, these Nomads had more technology and medicine than the forefathers of Earth That Was ever had.

After the four months ended, Mal and River bunched themselves onto a dogsled and were escorted into the only city Pluto had to offer, called simply The City. It was a decent looking town, much like many Mal had been to. Only difference with this one was it was dark and covered with snow.

Mal thanked his hosts, then stepped onto the streets and realized just how alone and screwed he and River were. They had no money, no food and no ship. "What shall we do now?" Mal asked her, hoping her psychic insight might come in handy.

"You said we might bury Simon," she said softly.

Mal hung his head. "Beibei, if the dogs ain't got him, nature sure did. We can't go back out there, we got no-"

"I want!" she screamed, hitting him. "I want! I want! Simon's dead!"

"Hey!" he yelled. "Hush it, alright? We can't go out there."

"Then we pray for him."

"Huh?"

River got on her knees, in the middle of the road, and mumbled a prayer. "Pray," she beseeched him.

"I ain't prayin, and I sure ain't doing it in the middle of the damn road. Get up."

"Now!" she screeched. "Our father in Heaven, we ask you guide Simon, Kaylee, and Zoe towards you." She gave Mal a look, which both demanded and pleaded.

Feeling a damn fool and a little uneasy, he got on his knees. "What do I say?"

"Pray."

"Okay, pray. Uh, God, I don't talk much to you and with good reason, but this girl wants me to so I will so she'll stop yellin. Uh… keep all them up there safe, take care of 'em cuz I-" He choked on his words, and was surprised to do it. "Cuz I couldn't."

"Amen," she whispered.

"Yeah," Mal agreed. "Can we go now?"

She nodded. "God heard."

"Well I'm the happiest man alive, then," he muttered sarcastically. He got quickly to his feet, nodded apologetically to the people watching them with wary eyes, and yanked River up as well. "We need to get us some money or we're gonna be here a while. Any plans?"

"River will not be a prostitute."

"No," he agreed quickly, "she will not." But there had to be something a crazy girl and a gimp leg could do. His leg hadn't healed properly because it'd been set so badly, so he walked with a slight limp and couldn't stand for more than a few hours at a time.

"Dock," River said out of nowhere.

"Doc? Like Simon?"

"No," she shook her head, staring straight ahead. Her finger raised, pointing out something far in the distance. It looked like an aircraft station.

Mal contemplated. "What?" he asked finally.

"Work," she said simply.

"Work," he repeated. "Work at the aircraft station. Okay then." He didn't have a better plan, so with a shrug and limp, he and River wove their way through the streets toward the dock. It was slow moving, what with the limping and the cold and the thick, fur lined coats and pants they had been given by the Nomads.

There was a man directing traffic at the main gate. He looked weary and in dire need of relief from his post. His eyes had gotten the look about him where he would refuse to be helpful if asked and no longer wanted to deal directly with the public. Mal walked right up to him. These were the kind of people he liked best- most difficult and least helpful.

"Mornin'," Mal said cordially.

"Afternoon," the man droned. "Loading to the left, unloading to the right, pilots through there." He waved carelessly at a large steel door behind him.

"Ain't none of the above," Mal informed him cheerily.

"Passengers at the end of the walkway, to your left."

"Nope."

"Civilians are not supposed to be on the property without just cause or valid identification."

"Ain't one of those neither," he smiled.

The man sighed heavily. "What do you want, then?"

"Name's Malcolm Reynolds, this here's my pilot River Tam. We're looking for work."

The man did his best not to laugh in Mal's face. "There are to cargo ships that run from this station, and we have pilots for both. Any other craft or freight has supplied their own pilots. If you're looking for manual labor, you wanna talk to Eddie. Through the doors." He waved again at the steel door behind him.

"Thanks," Mal said, walking past the traffic controller and toward the heavy looking door. _Manual labor?_ he asked himself. _You can't do air station labor, not with your newfound injury. And this here girl can't stay still more'n a few minutes._ But they didn't have a choice, did they? "Think you can push crates?" Mal asked River seriously.

"River won't," she informed him promptly. "She will be stuck on detail."

"Detail, huh? Not too bad, I guess. What about Mal?"

"Mal will be scrapping parts in the junkyard."

"Wonderful," he said, not meaning it at all. "Least it's only for a while."

"How long?"

"Until we can afford to get outta here."

"Go where?"

He thought about that a moment. "Where would River like to go?"

"Home."

Home? Home had exploded, hadn't it? "You mean to your parents?" She nodded. "Okay then, beibei," he said, touching her cheek lightly. "We get enough money to take you home."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Main characters owned by Joss Whedon.

* * *

It was the end of their first day of labor work, and Mal clearly remembered why he was a captain and not a lackey. First off, he wasn't good with taking orders. Much better at giving them. Second, manual labor has no rewards whatsoever. He'd been moving large piles of scrap metal all damn day and what did he have to show for it? Someone else coming in as soon as he was done to dump more scrap. It never ended. But at long last the day was done, and the supervisor (if he could be called that) had said Mal was good enough to come back again tomorrow.

Now, in the back alleyway of an old warehouse that'd shut down for the "winter months" (some kind of sick joke, Mal believed. All months were winter months, and if they weren't how in hell could you tell the difference?), Mal wondered if he actually could go back tomorrow. His leg was killing him. He felt old. He couldn't remember being this tired over something as meaningless as moving crates. They were heavy, sure, but he wasn't old enough to be feeling this way. Was he? His cold fingers traced a few well-known lines on his face- one across his brow, small ones by his eyes, the infamous 'smile lines' by his mouth. Jesus. Was he too old?

River plopped down beside him and handed him a steaming mug of something. He drank it, spat it out and readied himself to drink it again. "What're you giving me?" he asked.

"Broth," she said simply, taking a small sip from her own mug.

"Wait… where'd you get broth?"

"I got it from an old woman selling it on the corner. I found some money in the street today."

"Okay," Mal accepted. It made sense. And if she had stolen it, she would have just said so. "Thanks." The only redeeming factor of the broth was that it was hot. "What's this broth of?" he asked, hesitant to take another drink.

"Don't know," she said simply. "Probably warm soot broth."

"Soot broth?"

"Ashes, fire remains. Serenity."

Mal looked down at the warm liquid cupped in his hands. "I could be drinking my ship?" River nodded, sadly. She too looked at her cup. Suddenly, Mal wasn't anywhere near hungry. Instead he swirled the liquid around idly, warming his hands.

"Did Mal cry when he lost his girl?" River asked softly.

"You mean Serenity?" She nodded. "Yeah, sure I did. Lost some of my best men. And women."

"Does captain mean the ship, or the battle?"

"The ship." He paused. "And the war. Both." He'd forgotten about the war. Why had he named his ship after a lost battle? For what purpose? He knew all the reasons, but didn't it just make sense she would go down in flames, just like his troops? Did he have a way with leading men to their deaths? _It'll stay with you the rest of your life,_ he'd told Zoe, so proud of his new ship. He'd fallen in love instantly. Zoe had given him that look she always gave him and said _That's because it's a death ship, sir._ Simple as that. And simple as that, she'd been right. It occurred to Mal he'd left the war without any scars. Mental ones for sure, but nothing to show. Nothing tangible. Now he had a limp and age lines and a crazy girl to prove he'd lost his ship.

"Not old," River said, scattering his thoughts. "Aged. Not old. Mileage, not years."

"Whatever you call it, it shows. It's all over me."

"Mal was not made to be old?"

"I don't know," he told her. "Maybe not. Maybe I'm too proud."

"Mal was not made to be a father?"

He looked at her, puzzled and not yet alarmed. "Say again?"

"A father. A brother. Caretaker. He is scared he's reckless. Scared he takes lives. Scared he can't nurture, can only destroy."

Underneath the crazy babble, as always, River knew exactly what she was talking about. Mal was afraid he wasn't meant to nurture anything, just destroy it. After the war had ended he'd wanted to sustain life, just keep on going. Not destroy anything anymore. But he had destroyed so much, taken so many lives. Book. Wash. Zoe, Kaylee, Simon. They'd all gone down because of him. River was all he had to show for himself, and she scared him witless. He didn't want to be so well known without her even trying.

As though reading his thoughts (which she had been), River took Mal's hand and held it in hers. "River will be okay. She trusts him."

"But," he said, choking on threats of tears, "he don't trust himself. What if River goes down too?" It was funny how in order to talk with River, he usually adapted her third person way of speaking.

"Trust," she said simply, starting to cry herself. "River trusts Mal will care for her. Mal must trust she will too." She kissed his cheek and curled up beside him, her broth cup long since dropped into the snow. "Family."

"Family," Mal repeated, the word foreign on his tongue. Family. She was his family, and he was hers. Until he brought her home, anyway. "Well, sis, we can't stay out here and freeze to death." The wind was picking up and he didn't want to spend another night freezing to death and not wanting to sleep for fear they wouldn't wake up. At least this time they had parkas and wool fur-lined pants, but the problem was still there. "Wanna help me break in to a factory?"

Without a word, River punched the glass window behind her. It shattered neatly, leaving an almost fist-shaped hole. She reached in, unlatched the hook and pulled the tiny window open. Mal smiled at her proudly. She smiled back, admiring his age lines. They made him look dignified and perfect.

"You wanna climb in and open the door for me? Don't think I'll be doing any climbing, what with my leg."

River slipped out of her coat and nimbly crawled into the small window, the frayed chicken wire scratching her arms and back. She ignored it. Inside it was enormous and dark. Huge machines threatened to crush her if they fell. But they would not fall, and in her mind River told them so. They would not fall on River and Mal, they would protect them. She broke the lock to the small delivery door and opened it. Mal was still waiting beside the window they'd broken. River called softly to him.

"Here," she said. He turned abruptly, then scurried over and came inside. The door shut behind him, and silence clamped itself over their ears. It was tomb-like in this place. Shadows played tricks on their minds, and River was scared. She couldn't help it. It was silly she knew because there was nothing in here that could harm them, but her mind would not let go of the images of monsters and dragons that could swallow you whole. She screamed.

Mal grabbed her and clamped a hand on her mouth, then placed the other over her eyes. She quieted in his embrace. "You _cannot _do that," he scolded. "I know you can't help it, but you gotta learn to. We can't get caught here."

"Scared," she whispered. "The dragon eats her soul. So much blackness."

"Ain't nothing in here to be scared of. Remember trust? Don't you trust me?" She nodded. "Then trust me you ain't gonna get hurt." He hugged her tightly, slowly uncovering her eyes. She looked around and tried to see what things were, not what they could be. As her eyes adjusted to the dark it became easier.

Mal found a place for them to lay down- a conveyer belt wide enough to carry a truck. _What kind of factory is this?_ he wondered. It didn't matter right now. He pulled up his hood, laid down and motioned to River to do the same. She did willingly enough. He tucked one arm under his head as a pillow, and the other held the girl tightly to him. _We're safe now_, he thought to himself. More for River's mind reading benefit than his own. Safe.

* * *

If River calculated things right, she and Mal could afford a ride on a ship not meant for human transportation in about six months, being paid what they currently were. And she wasn't sure she could hang on to her job much longer. It kept her away from Mal, and Mal was the only thing that was familiar to her anymore. But in regards to pay, she needed to think of a way they could make more money or they'd never get off this planet. It stood to reason why the people who lived here (and who would want to in the first place?) spent their entire lives here. It was poor here, it was desolate and no one could do anything to change it. In a way it reminded her of the small muddy town where Jayne had been a hero. She missed Jayne. She missed Simon most.

It was getting bad. She was underneath the wing of a jet, scraping pieces of dead birds off the engines. Detail work, like she'd told Mal. So far she was doing okay. But this was only day three, and things were starting to get worse every day. Lots of alone time gives you lots of time to think, and for someone trying to escape their brain, alone time is not your friend. She kept thinking about Simon, about Kaylee and the children they were going to be having. Twins, most likely. Ran in Kaylee's family. River had cried all day yesterday while weaving her way through the inner workings of a commercial jet. Pluto was one of the last planets that still used them. Someone had seen her and asked what was wrong, and she'd screamed at them that the twins could never be born now. God wasn't fair. They gave her a strange look and walked off, indifferent to her suffering.

Tossing down her scraper, River decided she needed Mal. If he couldn't be with her, then this would not work. And they needed more money. She approached the supervisor (Eddie, she remembered) and tapped him on the shoulder. He awoke from his nap, startled.

"What?" he snapped.

"Detail won't work. Need to scrap."

Eddie looked her once over, and laughed heartily. "A skinny girl like you? Too dangerous. Get back to detail."

"Need Mal!" she shouted. "Need Mal! Can't be abandoned again!"

"Cool it, little lady," Eddie said, trying to patronize as much as possible. "Reynolds!" he yelled across the yard.

Mal looked up, annoyed. _Oh, God,_ he groaned to himself, _down to boot licking last name status? _But aloud he called back "Yeah?"

"Having troubles with your girl."

Mal sighed deeply, a sigh that touched every part of him. It was the sigh of knowing he was about to lose this job and they'd be stuck here forever. He made his way across the junkyard, stepping over bits of planes and spare parts. Eddie looked down at him from the supervising platform. River was by his side, looking distressed.

"Says she won't do detail no more," Eddie informed Mal. "Wants to be with you."

"Okay…" Mal didn't quite see the problem. "So, put her on scrap?"

Eddie shook his head. "Women can't scrap, they're too weak. Tell her she's got detail or she's got nothing. And from what I hear about her crying and yelling all the time, she's damn close to nothing."

Mal chuckled. "Actually, she ain't as weak as she looks. She took on a pack of (_Reavers_) thugs all by her lonesome. Think she'll be okay with me."

"Well you ain't making that decision, Reynolds. I am. And I says no."

Mal held his tongue, but oh, to hit that man would be sweet. "Okay," he conceded. "River, back to detail." She shook her head violently. "Come on, beibei, please?"

"Don't abandon me," she told him sternly, her eyes teary. "Don't scrap her."

"Oh, hell," he moaned. Truth be told she'd be a lot more productive with him that scraping gunk off motor parts. But he had to convince Eddie of that. "Look," Mal reasoned with the supervisor, "Truth be told she can't be any worse than I am, limping around out there. Just give her a day, all I ask."

"No."

"You give her this day, and if you don't think she can do it, I'll…" He thought at what he could possibly give this man since he'd lost absolutely everything. "I'll give you my pay for a month."

"A month?" Eddie asked skeptically. A month was a long time, and while it wasn't much pay, it was more than this guy had now. Seemed like a shiny deal. "Deal," he said proudly, and they shook on it. "You got a lot of faith in this tiny thing."

"Yeah, well, you would too if you seen her do what I've seen." He looked at River and smiled a little. "You coming or what?"

She hopped down from the platform gladly, all smiles now. "Does he think she can do it?"

"Beibei, he _knows_ you can do it."

As they walked across the junkyard together, Eddie watched them and shook his head. "Damn fool," he muttered, settling himself to go back to sleep. The odd foreign pair were heading over to the metal pile to help budge the pieces of iron that hadn't moved in weeks. There weren't enough men to get the one piece of scrap holding everything up out of the way so everything else could be moved. Eddie watched as Reynolds leaned over and said something to the weird girl, who nodded. The other men were laughing at her, and with good reason. What in the hell could a tiny girl like that do in a scrap yard? Get herself cut up, that's what.

River gave one swift, simple kick and the ten foot pile of iron came crashing down. The men stared in amazement. Eddie bolted upright in his chair, his mouth hanging open like a dumb fish. It was quiet in the junkyard for a while.

Mal smiled proudly at his girl, then grabbed a thick chunk of metal and heaved it onto his shoulder. "Need help?" he asked, smirking.

"No," she told him, lifting a scrap larger than the one Mal was carrying with some ease. She walked off toward the melting area across the way. Mal followed close behind, trying not to laugh too much.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Main characters owned by Joss Whedon.

* * *

After two months, Mal and River could afford a one-man room in the worst part of the city. After five months, they had enough money for one person to fly a beneath human standards aircraft. After seven months, they had both lost a combined seventy pounds and were slowly climbing the ladder to starvation. Unlike the traveling Nomads who wandered the tundra, The City folk didn't care much about anyone but themselves. It was a cold world, and you had to be tough to survive in it.

Pluto was in the oldest galaxy and therefore technology was almost primeval. Mal had connections- thousands of them- yet he could not contact a single one. The furthest any connection went to was to Earth that Was, and he didn't know anyone who knew anyone from there.

River was sleeping while Mal tried to figure out what they could do. They both slept a lot- took their minds off being hungry all the time. She was on the bed and he was propped up against the wall by the door. In the room was a bed, a small table that acted as a dining table, counter space and a desk, and a small lamp with a bare bulb. And a space heater thanks to River. Mal looked at the tiny heater as it worked its hardest to keep them warm enough. Had she found it in the trash, or stolen it? River wouldn't tell him and eventually he dropped it. Probably didn't want to know either way. But back to the dilemma. There was always the option of stowing away. If Simon could figure out how to break in and out of an Alliance training school, then surely he and River could hide on a clunky old aircraft.

River scratched at the air, muttering in her sleep. "He needs to run," she said, tossing her hair around. "He needs his family. He isn't safe."

"Who isn't safe?" Mal asked, more to amuse himself. She rarely gave him an answer if she was sleeping, and even when she was awake it was still 50/50.

"My brother."

Mal stared at her, obviously having not expected that answer. River mumbled a bit then was quiet again. He wanted to prod a bit more, but decided against it. She was tired and needed her rest. He was tired, too. It had to be one in the morning, or close to it. But his mind wouldn't shut off. _Think,_ he scolded himself. _What is the fastest way to out of a place?_ Well, the very fastest way would be to not be welcomed anymore. Did he want to be a fugitive again? No, not really. Without his own ship there was no way he could promise this girl any kind of safety. But there had to be a way to get these people to want him off their planet without wanting to kill him. If there was just someone he could reach- anyone at all.

"Witch," River said, her eyes opening. She looked at Mal, her face dead blank. "They called her a witch and wanted her burned."

"Yes," Mal agreed, not liking the way she was staring at him. "But we flew in and saved you, remember? We don't have that luxury this time."

"Fire scares them. Beneath the snow are the gasses that were. The gasses that burn lungs and kill them all. Fire destroys the snow."

"Okay," Mal agreed again, although to what he wasn't sure. "Fire." He thought it over, but came up short. "I don't get it," he said, which was putting it mildly.

"Scare them with fire." River blinked and seemed to come out of her trance. "Sleep now?" she asked him innocently.

"I guess." He got up (stiffly, from sitting on the floor so long) and crawled into the bed beside her. An amusing thought crossed his mind. _Never in my life have I had a woman in bed beside me for this long. _He smiled. He supposed now he could understand why Simon had waited so long on Kaylee. There was no room in life for another woman, not with this one always by your side. Still, he wasn't mad, just as Simon hadn't been.

"Twins," River mumbled as Mal took his usual place beside her. She nuzzled her nose into his neck. "Twins that never were." He said nothing, but kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. There was something to this fire things that he knew he had to understand, because River understood and although she couldn't tell him what she meant, she made it clear fire was important. But how? Mal eventually drifted off to sleep, frustrated that he'd never think of a way to get them out of here.

Oh, but morning can bring such wonderful ideas.

The sun came up and brightened the sky, if only by a little bit. They ate a quick meal of oatmeal looking substance and hurried off to the junkyard for another fantastic day of scrapping metal. Oh, boy!

"River," Mal said in a low voice, "I want you to stand by the melting vat a lot today, okay?"

"Scare them with fire?" she asked.

"Yes indeed. Now go." She went, looking at the molten metal with a face filled with wonder. Oh, the possibilities, her face clearly said. The wonder of it. Six times that day Eddie had to yell at the girl to stop futzing around and get back to work. On the seventh time, Eddie went over her head.

"Reynolds!" he yelled.

Mal limped over, desperately wanting to strangle Eddie with his own shoelaces. "Yes?" he asked. He still couldn't bring himself up to calling the man 'sir'.

"You see your girl over there?"

Mal looked. "Uh huh."

"I seen her there all damn day. What the hell's she doing? She don't get back to work, she won't have work to get back to! Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes," Mal said, although his face had paled a little. "All day?" he asked. "She's been there all day?"

"Yeah," Eddie said skeptically. "Why? What's she doing?"

"Well, just, staring I guess," Mal said uneasily. He watched River intensely, who continued looking at the boiling liquid metal with her eyes wide and dreamy.

Eddie did not trust Mal enough to take his word on things. "Reynolds, you better tell me what's going on with that girl or I'm gonna fire you both, understand?"

"Okay, okay," Mal caved. "Okay. Well River, she ain't really… stable, you know what I mean?" He tapped his head and made a funny, finger-wiggling gesture. Eddie got the gist. Mal continued. "For the past couple days she's been asking all these weird questions about what's under the snow."

"More snow," Eddie said simply, already starting to lose interest.

"Yeah," Mal agreed, "that's what I told her. But she wants to find out herself. She wants to get something real hot, like a big old fire, and see how far to the core she can melt. She wants to know what's under all the snow."

"You mean," Eddie said weakly, "to the bottom?"

Mal shrugged. "I guess. Right to the surface. And now you tell me about her looking at that vat all day, makes me worried what she plans to do."

Eddie had paled considerably. Not many people knew this, but underneath the pristine white coating of snow were gasses. Horrible, putrid, lung burning gasses. As a part of the terraforming, the Alliance had buried the planet in several kilometers of snow. As long as that snow never melted (and why should it?), the people were safe. But this here girl wanted to plunge right down to the bottom. So somehow, she knew what was beneath the snow and wanted to kill them all. Eddie gave Reynolds a once-over. He probably didn't know what the girl knew. He was just concerned about losing his job. _Well,_ Eddie thought, _you're about to lose a lot more than that._

"Just keep her away from the vat," Eddie said hastily. "I gotta go meet with someone. Get back to work." He hurried off before Mal could slip in a word edgewise.

River eventually rejoined Mal at the scrap heap. "Eyes burn," she told him.

"You did fine," he muttered. "Now stick by me, okay?"

"Eyes burn," she said again, lifting the piece of iron Mal had been struggling with.

He scowled at her. "Showoff."

"Reynolds!" Eddie called, bumbling his way over and trying to look important. "Get her and come with me."

"There a problem?" Mal asked. River was about to speak, but he jabbed her in the ribs. She punched him back, purely on reflex.

Eddie ignored their feud. "Management wants to see you," he said, smiling like the worm he was. His teeth were pointed and nasty. "Right now."

Mal and River followed Eddie without question. Mal kept a hand on the girl at all times in case she felt the need to go explore or some such thing. She had tried to drift off a few times, but the major part of her brain understood she had to follow along right now. It was tough convincing the rest of her to do this, so she was glad for Mal's hand.

Management was three very old, very weather-worn men who sat behind a desk and thought they were the princes of the Universe. They looked at Mal and River as though they had been debating on something and had quickly come to an amusing and harsh decision. The man in the middle stood up. "You both are to leave here?" he said.

"Leave?" Mal asked. "Where? Back with the Nomad group?"

"No, no. You are to leave the planet."

Mal looked at River, who bit her lip and shook her head. "Why?" he asked finally. "Have we done something wrong?"

"You are outsiders, Mr. Reynolds. You don't belong here."

"But we… For seven months now-"

"We have discussed it," the burly man to the left interrupted. "And this is our decision."

Mal looked appalled and hurt. Suddenly, he realized something. "This is about her, isn't it? This is about melting the snow. What's under there, anyway?"

"That is irrelevant!" the man in the middle bellowed, his voice booming. "You will gather your things and be gone by sundown."

"Where will we go?" Mal yelled back. "How will we leave?"

"You will have to sell your belongings and find a way, won't you? We want you gone by sundown."

"We don't have belongings," Mal protested. "We don't have anything."

"Gasses," River said in a small voice. "They're afraid of the gasses."

The members of management stared at her, obviously startled out of their wits. "How do you know about them?" the oldest one, the one on the right, said at last.

"Others know," she told him, feeding the paranoia written all over his mind. "There is a leak in your system."

"I knew it," he muttered, casting a sidelong glance at the man beside him. "Someone has been divulging secrets."

"Who would tell a girl?" the man on the left argued.

"It doesn't matter," the one in the middle decided, taking his seat again. "They must go before they can spread this news. Both of them. Get them on the next delivery craft out of here." He looked at Eddie with hard, cold eyes. "Keep them in custody until they are out of the atmosphere, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Eddie said quickly, seizing Mal and River by the arms. "Let's go, you two."

* * *

It wasn't until they had broken atmosphere and the familiar dots of stars surrounded them that Mal could finally relax. "About damn time," he said aloud. "I never want to see snow again long as I live."

"They will look for others," River said guiltily. "Some will die."

"Don't think about it," Mal told her, wishing she'd said something about this before they'd been deported. "We got out, that's enough for now." He tossed the empty soup cup into the crate next to him. Their accommodations were terrible- seated unstably in the cargo area surrounded by crates filled with bricks, a small wool blanket for each of them. It wasn't a passenger flight, so it was all they'd be getting. The soup had been good at least. "Where are we headed?" he asked River.

"Quadrant two, sector 117B."

"Good," he said, settling back for some much needed sleep. "Let's find Inara."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Property of Joss Whedon. The genius bastard.

* * *

As Mal had predicted, once they were out of the place no man apparently dared to venture communication between places had been easy as pie. And not just any pie- store bought, fresh from the freezer pie. Inara was pleased and surprised to hear from Mal. Then she was absolutely devastated by what he had to say. She hadn't bothered faking her cool like in the past- she openly wept in front of Mal and everyone near her. Wouldn't you?

Mal had let her cry and felt bad about everything all over again. "I still got River," he told her. "Jayne left us when we found people. Can't blame him."

"I can," Inara told him crossly. "That wang ba dan… What a way to appreciate someone."

"He didn't let us die," Mal told her. "That's enough for me."

Inara respectfully disagreed but didn't say so. "Where are you two now?"

"Quadrant two, sector 117B. Planet called Kalorie. Big cities, hardly no farmland."

"I'm familiar with it. Can you stay there?"

"Don't got much choice, do we? Less we get ourselves thrown outta here, too. But looks to me like if we try we'd get hanged before escorted out."

"Let me get back to you, alright?" The signal ended before Mal could answer either way. Didn't matter much, since the answer would have been 'sure thing' anyway. He waited patiently as he could in the tiny, dark space. River was sitting at his feet tossing a rock into the air and grabbing some sticks up before catching it again. Improvised jax, she'd told him. He watched her toss the rock, grab stick (all of them most tries) and catch the rock again. Her fingers were damn swift, surprisingly so in the darkness. They were cramped in a small payment operated communication unit (which is what became of telephone booths in 500 years). Mal was practically standing on top of River but she didn't seem to mind. Toss, grab, catch. Repeat as desired.

"Home?" she asked, not looking up at Mal. Toss, grab, catch.

"Working on it," he told her.

"Where will Mal go?"

"Well," he said honestly, "don't rightly know. One step at a time, okay?"

"You should stay with Inara. She would be happy."

"I'll bet." He leaned against the wall, getting a little impatient. What was that woman doing? "What would she do with another man in her life tagging along?"

"Mal would not tag," she told him simply. "Mal would lead. Mal would dominate."

He nodded, only just to show he was listening. If he did stay with Inara (which he wouldn't, not for long, anyway) he most certainly would be tagging along after her. She would most likely by now have passage on another ship and if he stayed as her guest eventually it would become too much for both of them and then he'd be in the same boat he was in now. Minus one crazy girl.

The monitor behind him beeped. He pressed the screen to accept the message. "Hi there," he said to Inara's worrisome face.

"I can be there in six days," she said immediately.

"Well, that ain't necessary-"

"Please, Mal. Why else would you have called me? To tell me you lost your crew?"

He scowled moodily. "Thought you'd like to know, to be honest. If I was wrong please, let me know."

"Of course you weren't wrong." She could feel an argument boiling up, and she wanted to nip it before it got out of hand. "I'm glad you told me. But you need help, that much is clear, so I-"

"I don't _need_ help," he told her imperiously. "We been doing fine so far on our own. Just thought you oughta know how things are."

Inara pursed her lips. "Have you informed their families yet?" she asked, her voice kind but the words heavy.

Mal recognized instantly it was a set-up. Of course he hadn't. And she knew that. Therefore, she could see right through his veil of being a good friend because if he _had_ been calling just to tell her what had happened, it would have been after notifying everyone's families. "Not exactly," he said at last. "Don't know how to get in touch with Kaylee's parents and I'll be seeing Simon's soon enough anyways, so…" He didn't need to go on further. Inara saw right through him but he hadn't admitted he needed help, so it was all good.

"I can be there in six days," she said again. "In the mean time there is a boarding house on Tuppence street called 'Master Chet's'. You two have a room reserved for you there, meals included. Get rest, you look absolutely terrible."

Mal rolled his eyes. "You mean the exhausted and worn-out look don't make me look dapper?' He smiled widely, as though trying to prove he was indeed dapper. Inara wasn't buying it. "Thank you," he mumbled. "I really appreciate this."

"Of course," she said sincerely. "I wouldn't want River to have to live in the cold anymore. Especially not in a city like that."

"No, course not. She's been through enough as it is." Mal could hardly keep eye contact. He scratched his chin stubble. "Best be going then, right? I'm half starved and River could use a meal more than a cup of soup." Their eyes met briefly. _God I love you woman, so damned much. _

"Okay," Inara said softly. "Take care of her, Mal." _I love you too, you poor, broken man._

The signal went dead.

* * *

Inara cancelled all her appointments, which pissed off quite a few people but she didn't care much about that. Mal and River needed her so she would be there. She arrived in six days as promised, and what she saw made her start to cry all over again. Neither River nor Mal looked anywhere near what they had before. Mal had always worn a lopsided, cocky smirk that both infuriated and pleased Inara. That smile was long, long gone. He walked with a limp now, kept his head down and didn't make eye contact. Malcolm Reynolds had always been too confident for his own good. Now he was just… different. Almost dead. River had the same way about her. Onboard Serenity she'd had a nearly palpable electricity of intelligence and vigor surrounding her. Now when Inara hugged her, the girl felt cold from the inside. The coldness of complete loss.

"I'm glad to see you're both well," Inara lied, her eyes brimming with hot tears. "You look much more rested than when we last spoke, Mal."

River shook her head. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Her voice was low.

"Thanks for coming," Mal said, and although he meant it there was little conviction in his voice. "Appreciate it."

"Of course, Mal." Inara smiled sweetly, but he turned away. It was awkward between the three of them. "Well," she said briskly, "I need to settle some business at the boarding house. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Sure," he agreed half-heartedly. They all walked in silence. Inara paid the man for the six days, then for three more days for two rooms. "You staying awhile?" Mal asked.

"For a while," she told him. Inara took Mal by the arm and got a good look at his face. "How is River?" she asked, not being able to find the courage to ask about him.

Mal waved a hand at the girl. "Doing real well," he said honestly. "Better than I ever thought she could. Almost died."

"Well, sure-"

"No, I mean in addition to." They both watched as River inspected the wallpaper on the stairwell, her eyes fixed and fascinated. Mal smiled a little. "Jayne found her under the mule, pinned down. Had a fever and an infected cut, bad burns on her leg. Was a damn miracle she made it the first night."

"She's strong," Inara said. "She's a miracle just walking around now, just as she is. With all she's been through, and all she can do. River is just miraculous."

Mal scowled. "Hate to think she's touched by God cuz that man don't deserve a girl like that on His side."

The air became awkward again. Inara took notice of River and Mal's clothes. "You two must be hot as anything in those," she remarked. They still wore the fur-lined, wool clothing from Pluto.

"Yeah," Mal admitted. "Been meaning to get something else, but…" _But we can't afford it and there ain't no way I'm asking your help on that._

"Then we should go shopping," Inara said brightly.

"No," Mal said immediately.

"For River, then. You can't say no to that."

"Up to her, I guess."

"Okay!" River called from across the room, having lost interest in the wallpaper. "It's too hot."

"There," Inara said, smiling smartly at Mal. "All settled. Come on, River, I'll find you something nice."

"Mal too?" River's eyes were wide and hopeful.

"I suppose that's up to him."

River took Mal's hand in hers. "Yes?" she asked.

"No," he told her. "I'm all right."

"Liar," she said simply, and dragged him out the door behind Inara. "I will find you something nice. Something green, or maybe blue. Make you handsome."

"I don't wanna be handsome," he grouched. "I'm fine just as is."

"Maybe orange," River continued, ignoring him. "Bright, sun colored orange."

"Fine," Mal said crossly. "Blue or green. Or brown. _No_ damn orange." River smiled at him widely. She had many years of practice being a younger sister, so she knew how to get an older brother to give in to what she wanted. Mal had absolutely no experience at being an older brother, so he was essentially putty in her lethal hands. And as with all stubborn older brothers, even adopted ones, Mal was pleased with what she selected, and even more pleased she had forced him into letting Inara buy him new clothes. He felt more himself now because of them. Inara and River smiled secret female smiles as they walked out of the clothing store. Mal chose to ignore those looks because he knew they were about him and he didn't want to admit that he'd been bested by a teenage girl.

Still, he had to admit, he _did_ look damn handsome.

* * *

Mal opened his bedroom door slowly, cursing the creak it made. "River's sleeping," he whispered to Inara, who was waiting on the other side.

"Care to walk with me?" she asked softly.

Mal looked back over is shoulder, then closed the door behind him. He followed Inara downstairs and out into the busy night air. It was a bit windy, but warm. Even late at night this city never slept. People bustled here and there, peddlers sold their good, questionable women sold _their_ goods. Most of these women glared at Inara as she passed, as though she represented everything in life they wanted to be but were denied.

"How are you?" Inara asked her companion, ignoring the scathing looks from the prostitutes.

"Fine," he said simply.

"I mean really."

"How would you expect?"

Inara paused. "It was a silly question, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you two. Neither of you look well at all."

"Should we?"

"No," she told him honestly.

Mal stuck his hands in his pockets. "Guess we're okay," he mumbled. "Just… Zoe always said it was a death ship." He laughed humorlessly. "I didn't think it'd be so literal."

"Oh, Malcolm," Inara said, teary-eyed. "I'm so sorry."

"You keep saying that," he chided her. "Ain't nothing to be sorry for. These things happen."

"It's just a shame it happened to your crew. They didn't deserve that."

"Well," he said colorlessly, "suppose God ain't so picky as to who he picks off." He kicked a pebble down the street. It hit a prostitute, who glared at him. He didn't reciprocate. "I mean," he continued angrily, "why'd He pick someone like Kaylee? Or Zoe? Or even Simon? Don't make no sense."

Inara slipped her arm through Mal's. "I wish I could say something comforting," she told him.

"S'ok." He looked over at her and smiled lightly. "Good thing you didn't stay with us, huh?" Inara didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. Mal stopped walking and looked at her straight. "Why didn't you stay with us?"

"You know why," she told him, keeping her eyes looking into his best she could. It was very hard to do. He looked so terribly sad and beautiful. "I couldn't. And I built myself a life, I couldn't just give that up."

"But you're here now."

"Yes," she admitted. "I am." This was getting to be too much. She felt exactly as she had felt when he had asked her why she'd been knocked out by Saffron's lip poison. Only this time, there was no way around telling him exactly what she felt.

"You just drop everything to be here?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"For us?"

Inara nodded. _For you,_ she thought.

"Thank you. And I mean it."

"I know," she whispered, pulling him into a hug. Her lips brushed the corner of his mouth; the closest she'd ever dared to go toward what she wanted. He held her tightly and accepted the comfort. She smelled like ivory soap and rose petals and it made him want to cry.

"Where will you both go?" she asked when they pulled away.

"I promised River I'd take her home, so that's what I'm gonna do."

"You mean to her parents? But how?"

"Don't know yet." He started walking again, changing direction to back toward the boarding house. "Guess I'll do what we did back on Pluto- work until we get enough for a ride somewhere. Go as far as we can."

Inara pursed her lips. "Maybe I can help you."

"With what?' he asked skeptically.

"Well, with transport. I'm sure I can get us a ride wherever you need to go."

"Thanks," Mal nodded. "River will appreciate it."

"What about you?"

The air hung still between them. Inara waited anxiously for an answer, and Mal tried as fast he could to think of something suave and collected to say. "I wanna do right by her," Mal said finally. "She's lost enough and it was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault."

"Regardless," he said shortly, "I owe it to her."

"What will you do when she gets home?"

Mal looked away. He had been trying real hard not to think that far ahead, since every time he did he came up with the same answer- he didn't have a damned clue. "Guess I'll find work, get a ship and find a new crew," he said. His tone wasn't convincing, however.

"You could… until you get yourself stable, I mean…you could-"

"No," he said sharply. "I appreciate it, but I don't need-"

"_Grow up_, Mal!" Inara scolded him. "You have nothing! I'm only trying to help because I care about River and you. Stop being so proud."

"I ain't proud!" he retorted. "I'm just… okay, so I am proud." He kicked another pebble moodily. "Just hate being so damn helpless."

"You're not helpless, that's not it at all. You're just down for a bit. You'll be okay."

"This feels just like losing the war again!" he yelled. "Just standing there watching everything you care about go down in flames. Too damn similar."

Inara found herself at a loss for words. A companion should always know what to say in times of distress, but her personal feelings were getting in the way. She knew some generic statement of pity wouldn't be good enough here. "We should go back," she said at last. "I wouldn't want River to wake up and see we've gone. She might think we abandoned her."

"She knows I wouldn't," he told her. "But you're right anyway."

River was still asleep when Mal climbed into the bed next to her. She immediately threw an arm around him, as though anchoring him to the spot. He chuckled quietly and closed his eyes.

"She loves Mal?" River mumbled sleepily.

"Who? You?"

"Inara."

"Nah," he said passively, blushing in the dark. "That ain't what she wanted. She asked where we were going."

"She does." This time it wasn't a question.

"Nah," he said again. "Go to sleep."

"River loves Mal."

"Damn right she does."

"Mal loves River?"

Mal shifted uncomfortably. "You take up too much room," he decided. "How can you be so skinny and take up so much of my bed?"

"_My_ bed," she informed him. "You can sleep with Inara."

"Nah," he said, apparently the only word that came to mind in concern with Inara. "She got enough men in her bed."

"Is that why you won't tell her?"

"Sure," he agreed, if only to end the conversation before it began. "Will you shut it and go to sleep now?"

"You're cold," River complained, snuggling up closer against him. "Frozen as Zoe in the snow. Her eyes side and scared. She is with Wash now."

Mal held his breath a moment, making sure he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't, so he breathed. "You're all sorts of impossible, you know that?"

"I know," she told him honestly. Simon had always said that to her (not quite in those words) when they were children. "Does Mal love her?"

"Inara?"

"River."

"Oh." Her way of skipping from first to third person in the same conversation always left him confused. It would be something he'd have to get used to. _Until she's gone,_ he reminded himself. River was still waiting for an answer and he wasn't ready to give her one. "I'll tell you in the morning," he lied, and he knew she'd know this. He expected a fight from her, but she was already half asleep again. Good for him. He hadn't told a woman he'd loved her since he last saw his mother, and that was too long ago to remember.

* * *

Inara arranged for a good friend of hers (a client, Mal knew, but she refused to say that word) to get them a ship to take them to River's parent's house. He thanked her, she said it wasn't necessary, and now they were just waiting for the pilot to take off. Mal sat in the passenger's seats, not wanting anything to do with the bridge. He could have piloted the ship, he knew that. Inara would have let him without a second thought. But for some stupid reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It felt almost like cheating. River sat beside Mal, a nervous smile on her face.

"You okay?' he asked her.

"No," she said. Her eyes darted around. "Must stay," she said slowly. "Can't go yet…can't… he's not found us yet."

"Who?"

She unsnapped her harness and ran screaming to the cockpit. "Stay!" she yelled. "STAY!"

Inara, seated across from them, looked at Mal quizzically. He shrugged. "You expect me to know?" he asked.

"Inara," the pilot called over the speaker system. "Your little girl is bugging the hell out of me, and there's someone calling."

"Leave her alone," she told the pilot. "And who's calling for me?"

"I dunno," he said, confused. "But they want passage."

"They?" she asked. "How many are there?"

"Three. Two women, one man."

Mal and Inara exchanged the same puzzled look, then she went to see who was there. Her voice came on the speaker a few seconds later. "Mal," she said, her voice laughing. "There's something here I think belongs to you."

It was Jayne.

"Mal!" he yelled upon seeing his former captain. "Mal, thank God."

"Jayne," Mal said, mildly surprised. Okay, extremely surprised. But he hid it well.

"See girls?' Jayne said to his female companions. "This here's my boss. Pays me twelve percent."

One of the women, a slender brunette, looked Mal up and down, obviously unimpressed. "We'll give you fifteen," she told Jayne.

"Sorry," he said, "can't. Already got a job. Pay don't mean nothing."

Mal almost (almost) burst out laughing. "Nothing?" he asked Jayne. "Since when? You were always bugging me for a raise every damn day."

"Only cuz I knew I wouldn't get one," Jayne argued. His eyes were pleading. "So I can't work for you girls, cuz I gotta leave now. We got a job… where we going, captain?"

"Uh… Osiris?" It was the first place that came to mind.

The other girl, a very pretty blonde, pouted dangerously. "You can't stay, Jayne?" she asked. "You sure?"

"Damn sure," he told her quickly. "See you girls around." He walked onto the ship and gave Mal a pleading 'don't you dare call me on this' look. Mal obliged for the moment.

"He's your hired man?" the brunette asked Mal.

"Yep," Mal said finally, having given it a few seconds thought.

"And you ain't willing to let him go for, say, ten thousand?"

"Ten thousand? You want him for that much?" He gave an impressed but confused look at Jayne. "What in the hell'd you do to these girls they'd want you for ten thousand?"

"Dunno," Jayne lied. "Don't we gotta be going?"

"I don't know, ten thousand could get a me a lot of things I need…"

"You'd sell me?"

"Think I would," Mal said pleasantly.

"No!" Jayne said desperately. "No, I like it here. Love this damn ship." He looked around and realized what a terrible craft it was. "It's, uh… got character or whatever. Come on, let's go."

"Jayne!" River screamed, throwing herself into his arms. "He found us!"

"Yeah huh." He didn't understand at all, but she was helping his plight so for now, they were best friends. He hugged her tight. "Course I did."

"Captain almost left without you?"

"Damn near," he said, keeping an arm around her shoulder. "You believe that?"

"We go now," she told Mal, then gave a nasty look to the girls who wanted Jayne. "Jayne is not for sale," she told them.

The blonde glared back like a pro. "Is she sleeping with him?" she asked Mal.

"Not recently," Mal said honestly. "She's been sleeping with me."

She made a face. "Ain't you too old for her?"

It was then that Mal decided this cutesy little conversation was just about over. He set his face to 'get lost' and said firmly "Jayne's my hired man. He ain't for sale like the girl says. And we got to go, so I'll ask you to leave."

The brunette glared at him and the blonde pouted. But Mal ignored them both, guided Inara back on board and got ready to take off.

Once in the air, Mal sat himself down next to Jayne and stared at the merc for a very long time. Jayne did his best to ignore him, but it was real hard since there was nothing much to look at but space and he'd seen plenty of space in his days. "What?" he finally snapped.

"You got something you wanna share?"

"Not especially."

"Then I'm ordering you to."

"That so?" Jayne quirked an eyebrow. "Who are you to be ordering me around?"

"Apparently your captain." He gave Jayne a triumphant smile, and Jayne was terribly pissed to have been beaten.

"Fine," Jayne conceded. "What do you wanna know?"

"Oh," Mal said, readying himself for a good long story, "how about everything?"

"They were missionaries. Hired men. Only, you know, ladies. Wanted me to join."

Mal nodded. "Okay. So why didn't you?"

"Was gonna at first. Be more than happy to. Took a few of 'em to bed, was all good. Hell, took three in one night. Those ladies didn't care what for nothing on the unusual."

"Stick to the point," Mal interrupted, shuddering from the mental image Jayne had just painted for him. It would be forever burned into Mal's retina.

"Fine," he said sorely. "But that's the best part."

"I'm sure disappointed."

"Anyway," he grumbled, "was going real well until they started getting possessive of me. Hitting me when I looked at the girls on the street, keeping an arm around me at all times. Hell, they spied on me when I went anywhere. Started creepin' me right the hell out. So one night, one of 'em lets slip that she's all excited cuz she can't wait to be havin my baby. Don't think she were pregnant yet, but she was sure trying. Find out they was using me for some ruttin' breeding stag, like I was a damn horse or something. I was just about to lose my gorram mind cuz I couldn't go nowhere without one of 'em following me. So then this one day I saw you an' the little crazy girl walking around and I got an idea that I'd tell the girls I couldn't stay with 'em cuz I had to go back to my crew. Went looking for you at the place you were stayin' but the guy said you'd left with a companion woman. Got here just in time. You almost left me stranded with the group of the craziest women I ever care to meet."

Mal was trying not to laugh at Jayne. He wasn't trying real hard, though. "You were chased out of town by a group of girls?"

"Crazy girls," Jayne said defensively. "Like having River around you all the time, only she's taken a fancy to you."

Mal's laughter tapered off after this. Actually, he did know what that particular scenario was like. "You said you saw us," he said slowly, "but you never said anything to us?"

Jayne shrugged. "What did you want me to say?"

"I don't know… 'hello' would've been a good start."

Jayne stuck his hand out, and Mal shook it, looking at the man strangely. "Hello, Mal," Jayne said politely. "How's life with a limp and a crazy?"

"Going great," Mal lied. "She's been a lot better since her brother kicked off."

"Oh?" Jayne said, feigning interest. "Good for her. Nice ship you got here."

"It's Inara's," Mal confessed. "But I like it."

"Good, good."

"How about you? Having luck?"

"Plenty. I mean, 'sides from the girls I just left, had a lot of jobs here and there. Almost bought me a ship once, but the guy tried to rip me off, so, you know."

"Yeah, can't be too careful. So you're good?"

"Damn right. You and River?"

"Happy as can be."

Jayne frowned. "We done lying through our teeth now?"

"Just about." Mal stretched his bad leg some. "Where are you gonna go now?"

Jayne shrugged. "With you. At least, for a while. Figure I owe you."

Mal had been about to say 'You don't owe me nothing' when River spoke for him. "Yes," she said simply, "you do."

"Hush up, moonbrain," Jayne scolded her.

Instead of being put off, River sat beside him and leaned on his shoulder. "Missed you," she said simply.

Jayne smiled in spite of himself. "That so? Didn't miss you none."

"Liar," she chided him, but didn't elaborate on the subject. Jayne tried to shrug her off a few times but she would not be swayed. So instead, he gave up on it and talked to Mal again.

"Where are you going, anyway?"

"Taking River home," Mal told him. "She wanted to go, so we go."

"After that?"

_Why does everyone keep asking me that? _Mal scowled to himself. _Ain't it enough to have thought this far? _"Don't know," he said aloud. "What about you?"

Jayne shrugged. "Whatever comes my way."

"Jayne will come with us?" River asked.

"I guess," he conceded. "At least until you're back where you came from, anyway."

"Thank you," she purred. "He belongs."

Whether or not that was true, Jayne did not know. But he felt a strange sort of comfort just seeing Mal and River again, so he didn't question it.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Property of Joss Whedon. The genius bastard

* * *

It felt right. Somehow, Inara made everything seem better. It might have been being out in the sky again, or it might have been that now they were together and they could laugh again. It might have been that none of them had to worry about freezing or starving anymore. They swapped stories, and Jayne by far had fared better than Mal and River. He always had a place to sleep, always had food in his stomach and someone to rely one. Granted, sometimes those reliables weren't quite so reliable, but he made do. Jayne was fit, tough and didn't have anyone to look after but himself. Mal wasn't the least bit surprised by Jayne's success- the man was as changing as the oceans. But he, Mal, had physical limits and a young girl he needed to consider. That and he wasn't willing to kill someone for hire.

As they drew nearer to River's home, she grew twitchier and a lot more difficult to sedate. She screamed at random, stabbed at people and ran around stomping as hard as she could. Mal once overheard her muttering to herself some nights, usually something about "He will not take her but they will want her they will want her she will go again for him." Jayne passed this all off as her usual craziness rearing its ugly head. Inara bit her lip in worry, but thought best not to comment. Mal was fairly certain that River was scared of something, but what she refused to tell him.

The night before they arrived River got out of bed, went into Jayne's room and sat on top of him. He opened his eyes, surprised but wary because he remembered she was a moon brained girl and she would kill him and think it was an accident. _She feels everything,_ Simon had once said. And if she was scared, like Mal thought, then fear was a sure conductor of death.

"Need something?" he asked her.

"Sex," she told him. "Impregnate. Breed me. They will not take her if she is tainted."

Jayne furrowed his thick brow. "No," he said at last, having gone through his entire repertoire of responses. "Get off me."

"She can't go!" she pleaded. "But she can't stay. He can't keep her. Please, Jayne."

"I ain't gonna… not with you." He tried to gently lift her off him, but she threw herself down onto him. The top of her head nicked his chin, shaking him brain and giving him a small headache.

"He hides too well," she whispered, starting to cry. "She can't see into him. Inara couldn't either. She had to go. Now I will have to go." River sobbed pitifully, her fingernails digging into Jayne's bare chest like cat's claws. "I will go." Her voice was dull, as though accepting her fate at last.

Jayne shifted under her, not having a clue what this conversation was all about and not much caring to either. But it seemed the girl was real upset and she didn't plan on moving anytime soon. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. "All right, little girl," he murmured. It pained him- that had been his little affection term for Kaylee. She seemed so far away now. He'd always liked Kaylee. She was so gentle, so sweet and needing so much protection. He'd never have admitted to it, but he would have done just about anything to keep Kaylee safe. Jayne glanced down at the pitiful girl on top of him. She needed someone to protect her, didn't she? Despite being able to take on a pack of Reavers alone, River was still a little girl who needed people to keep her safe. What would she have been like if the Alliance had never tampered with her? Would she sweet and small, like Kaylee? Would she need a protector?

It dawned on Jayne that it didn't matter at all. She needed someone- him- to protect her. And he would, as best he could. If only to make up for what he couldn't do for Kaylee anymore.

"Okay," Jayne said softly, getting comfortable. "Okay, beibei. I won't sex you, but you can stay if you like."

"Jayne loves River?"

"I wouldn't say that," he contested. "I mean, you're all right."

River sniffed. "Someone has to love me."

"Your parents, wouldn't they? Why else would you go there?"

"Mal can't keep her. She is his burden. He will never be happy with her weighing him down."

"That ain't true." But maybe it was. He didn't know for sure. Jayne had never been the "comforting" type because most times he told people what was true, not what they wanted or needed to hear. Now, though, he didn't want to upset her. She was a little girl who needed someone nice. He sure wasn't nice, but he'd have to do for now.

"What's life like with a limp and crazy?" she asked, mocking Jayne's unschooled accent. He frowned. "He can't help River," she informed Jayne. "He is too tired. He can't love anyone anymore."

"You'll be home tomorrow most likely," Jayne told her. "Then you don't gotta worry about it no more."

"No," she said sadly, climbing down off Jayne's burly chest. She stood beside his bed, small and tired. "No, won't worry anymore. She will go."

It was unsettling how final those words of her had been. Jayne watched her go, pained by something deep and unknown. She looked like someone walking their last mile. He settled back in his bed, staring at the ceiling. She said she would go. But in the end, he wasn't too sure he could let her.

River climbed into Mal's bed. He moved for her, only half-waking. He'd become accustomed to it by now. "You okay?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I love you, Mal."

"Mm," he mumbled. River closed her eyes and slept.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Tam received the group pretty much how Inara had expected them to- they were confused and very wary of them. Mrs. Tam scowled at Inara, who politely ignored her. Mr. Tam clearly did not like the scruffy way Mal and Jayne looked, and especially did not like that they were with his daughter. But they were all invited in because it was the polite thing to do. Mal explained to them what had happened to their children over tea. Simon, he regretfully informed them, was no longer with them. It had been a bad accident. He most assuredly felt no pain. Mrs. Tam wept bitterly for her son, but there was something to it Mal did not like. He couldn't tell if she cried because Simon was dead, or because he hadn't turned out the way she had hoped he would. Mr. Tam invited them to stay for dinner, which they did. Inara and River strolled through the backyard together while Mal and Jayne kept themselves hidden somewhere by the fishpond. The Tams were inside preparing the meal.

"Are you happy to be home?" Inara asked River kindly. The girl had been shy and recoiled all day.

"Not for long," she mumbled to herself. "Home will not be long."

"What do you mean, River?"

"She will go back to the hands of blue. They will give her to them."

"Your… your parents?" River did not answer, only nodded slightly. Inara stared at her, shocked. No, that couldn't be right. They were her parents, they loved her. Surely they wouldn't give her back to the Alliance to be used as a lab rat again? She thought back on what Simon had told them about when he'd discovered River was in danger, and not even his parents had wanted to help him. They didn't believe him. Didn't believe, or didn't care?

Inara approached Mal just before they were called in for dinner. He and Jayne were talking in hushed tones. "Mal," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't like this."

"The house? Thought you'd be used to-"

"No, not the house. I don't want to leave River here."

"Well, we don't have a choice. This is her family, she wanted to come here."

"But she said they were going to send her away again. Back to the Alliance."

Mal was at a loss for words. Jayne was not. "Then she ain't staying," he said simply. Mal looked at him, dumbstruck again. "What?" Jayne said defensively. "We risked all hell to keep her from the Alliance, and now you're just gonna hand her over to people who want to send her back?"

Mal chewed it over for a bit. "What are we gonna do, just run off with her? She don't belong to us."

"We should ask her," Inara said firmly. "Ask if she wants to stay. I don't want her here, Mal. Didn't you feel how weird it was with them? They won't know what to do with her."

"And we do?"

"We know better. We won't try to sweep her under the rug like a shameful secret. I know families like these, Mal. They'll keep her locked up in a back room so no one knows what a disgrace she is."

Mal was clearly torn. On the one hand, he didn't want River staying here if she was going to be miserable. On the other, Inara might be wrong. Mrs. Tam had hugged River pretty tight when she'd seen her. And now, River was their only child. Maybe that would be enough for them?

"Dinner is ready," Mrs. Tam called across the yard, scattering Mal's thoughts. He was startled, but not by her. By her daughter. River looked like she had been drugged. Her hair hung in her face, making her eyes dark and in shadow. She looked like walking death.

"River, honey," Mrs. Tam fussed, "stop slouching." She tucked her daughter's hair behind her ears. "Keep you chin up." River followed her mother inside listlessly.

Dinner was awkward, kept only on the lighter side of painful by Inara's special talents as an elite conversationalist. She knew just what to say, just what not to say, and when to kick Jayne under the table to keep him from speaking. Mal spoke briefly about Serenity when asked, keeping out small details like 'firefly' and 'pirates' and 'death trap'. The Tams seemed almost horrified by the whole concept, but they pretended to hide it well. By the time coffee came round, Mal had stopped talking altogether.

River hugged them all goodbye- Inara first, who cried a little. Then Jayne, who reluctantly hugged back. "Be good, moonbrain," he told her. "No stabbing papa in his sleep." That joke didn't go over well with Mr. Tam, who scowled fiercely. Last she hugged Mal, seeming never to want to let go.

"You'll be okay?" he whispered in her ear.

"River will live," she told him, although not very persuasively. He wanted to ask what her parents would do to her, but couldn't find the heart to. River already knew what he wanted. "They will see her unstable," she told him sullenly. "They will not know what to do with her. She is not the same. They will send her away."

"Why are you staying?"

River pulled from the hug. "She will be okay," she told Mal simply. "This is her family."

Mal accepted that answer, although he couldn't quite figure out why he still felt so guilty. "We'll stay for a while," he told her. "Ten days. If you decide to… If you change your mind, you find us." Inara, standing beside Mal, nodded.

River looked at the floor. "She will go for him," she murmured.

Mal, Inara and Jayne left the Tam house and found an inn in the city nearby. No one spoke the entire three hour ride there.

* * *

"What will you do now, Mal?" Inara asked kindly. They were all at lunch, dining on a meager meal that was cheap and unfulfilling. Not one of them felt much like eating.

"Why?" Mal asked her, stirring his mashed potatoes but not eating them.

"You said you would bring River home, and you have. So what happens now?"

"I don't know," he said miserably. "I move on like I always do."

"Get a ship?" Jayne asked, chewing on a stale biscuit.

"Suppose."

"Am I crew?"

"Suppose."

"First mate?"

"Doubt it."

Jayne sulked. "Should be," he said testily. "Saved your ass a time or two."

"I need someone with a level head to be second in command," Mal told him. "You're too… what's the word?"

"Trigger happy?" Inara offered.

"That's the one!" Mal declared.

Jayne sulked harder. "Shoulda let you freeze," he grumbled, getting up and heading out into the street.

"I'm cuttin' your pay for that!" Mal yelled to him.

"You gotta have pay to cut it!" Jayne retorted over his shoulder. The door closed behind him with an unsatisfying 'swish'.

Inara smiled at Mal, who smiled back. _Ah,_ she thought to herself, _there's the smile I miss._ "So what now, Captain Reynolds?"

"We still got eight days," he told her. "After that maybe I'll have an answer."

* * *

On day ten, Mal was impatient as anything. He was pacing all over the place paying no attention to his limp. "I guess that's that," Mal said to Inara and Jayne. "I guess she didn't want to go."

"Of course she does," Jayne said, flipping through a magazine. "But she ain't coming."

"Why not?"

"_Because_," he said, exasperated, "she thinks _you_ don't want her."

"Me? I never said that. When did she say that?"

"Day before we got here. She said she didn't want to go but that you didn't want her no more so she was gonna leave you so you could do what you wanted. Didn't want to be a burden to ya."

"A burden? Where in the gorram hell'd she get an idea like that?"

"Who knows? She came to me one night trying to get me to take her to bed."

"What?" That was Inara.

"Told me to knock her up. That way she'd be tainted and they wouldn't want her."

"The Alliance," Inara said, slowly piecing it together. "They wouldn't want her if she was pregnant, she'd be of no use to them. She would have to stay home."

Mal threw his hands up. "This is a fine time to be telling me this!" he yelled.

Jayne shrugged. "I didn't know what she was talking about. Maybe you told her you didn't want her no more, I dunno."

"Well of course I… I mean, she don't gotta stay if she don't want to."

"Then why don't you tell her that?" Inara said, her tone very direct.

"I will!" Mal declared. "Get your things, we're going right now."

When Mrs. Tam opened the door, she looked both shocked and a bit angry. "Can I help you?' she said tersely.

"Yes ma'am," Mal said respectfully. "We'd like to speak to River."

"She's… indisposed at the moment. She's asleep."

"You mean drugged," Jayne mumbled.

Mrs. Tam ignored him, but shot him a nasty look. "You can't speak to her now. Please leave."

"I got a better idea," Jayne said, pulling out a small pistol and aiming it at the woman's forehead. "How about you let us in like a good little housewife and offer us some tea?"

Mal looked at the gun, looked at the terrified Mrs. Tam, then looked at Jayne. "See what I mean?" he said calmly. "You're too impulsive. I wanted to handle this in a calm, civil way."

"Yeah," Jayne reasoned, "but sometimes my way's more effective faster."

"That's true," Mal credited him. "But you don't pull a gun on an innocent civilian."

"You do if she gives you trouble."

Mr. Tam came up behind his wife. "Don't you dare point that at her!" he yelled at Jayne.

Jayne moved his aim from the wife's forehead to the husband's. "This more to your liking?" he asked. Mr. Tam gulped. Apparently the first wave of bravado was all he had in him.

"May we come in?" Inara asked politely, trying to salvage this before it turned into a matter for the authorities. The Tams stepped aside.

"River!" Mal bellowed through the house. She came running down the stairs seconds later. She hadn't been drugged, but she did look worse for the wear. "Hi," Mal said simply.

"No Jayne!" she screeched. "No!" Mal motioned to Jayne for him to lower his weapon, which he did. Unhappily.

Mal approached River slowly. "We're heading off today," he told her, like she didn't know.

"Yes."

"You, uh… You gonna be okay?"

"Yes." This time he knew she was lying.

"You can come with us of you want."

River shook her head. "He will be happier without her."

"Now I never said that," he told her. "Do you really want to stay here?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow," she said wryly. Her voice was scathingly sad and her eyes even worse. She turned to go back to her room.

Mal fidgeted a few seconds, trying to make a decision. "Okay," he said finally. "Yes, I do, beibei. I love you." River looked back over her shoulder, her eyes scrutinizing. "I do," he reassured her. "Now get down here and get your ass on my ship."

"Yessir!" she cried happily, running toward him. He scooped her up into a hug. She just about knocked him over, but Jayne was there to catch them both.

"Easy there, little crazy," Jayne said. "He's gimpy now, remember?"

"You're not taking her," Mr. Tam said bravely. "You can't kill my son and then expect to steal away my daughter!"

"Oh, I reckon I can," Mal said confidently. "Especially since you're just going to send her back to that ruttin school that messed her up to begin with." He smiled proudly at the Tam's shocked, paled faces. "Oh, did I forget to mention River's a reader? Almost got burned as a witch because of it. Funny story, actually." With an arm still around River, Mal walked to the door, guiding his crew along. Jayne flipped the Tam's off, grinning like the devil himself.

"Bye now," she said pleasantly.

They were in the sky again in less than five hours. Mal took the controls this time. It felt good, almost natural, to be behind the wheel again. It felt like tings were back in balance and they could all breathe normally. River came up behind him and hugged him tight. "Mal loves me?" she asked.

"Absolutely."

"Inara loves me?" she called over her shoulder as the companion swished into the cockpit.

"Of course," Inara said kindly, hugging the skinny girl. "You're like a little sister to me. I love you very much."

"Jayne loves me?" River bellowed.

His heavy footsteps echoed in the hall until he appeared in the doorway, looking tall and menacing. "We on this again?" he grunted.

"Jayne loves me?" she asked again sweetly.

Jayne looked thoughtfully at the girl. He thought of Kaylee, and how he never got to tell her how fond of her he really was. He thought of the day Kaylee died. Of how he'd spent all night thinking about her while holding River on his lap. He thought of when River had cut him with the knife, of when he'd turned her and Simon in to the feds, of the way she's looked after she'd taken on all them Reavers. He thought of holding River on the night life had changed forever to keep her warm, how she'd clung to him and when she'd asked of him '_Don't let me go_' he had said to her '_Okay, beibei. I'm here._'

"Yeah," he said honestly, and for the first time there was no cynicism in his voice at all. "Yeah, I do."

River hugged him, purring contentedly. The four of them looked out into the starfield and watched the small white dots pass by. "Family," River said softly, her head rested on Jayne's chest.

They all agreed.

* * *

THE END. 


End file.
